Parting is Such Bittersweet Sorrow
by seekingtomorrow
Summary: She used to be that girl; you know, the one who left a trail of broken hearts in her wake.  Staring at her, you wonder if even a tiny remnant of that girl still remains.
1. Chapter 1

**Parting is Such Bittersweet Sorrow**

**SUMMARY:**She used to be that girl; you know the one who left a trail of broken hearts in her wake. Staring at her, you wonder if even a tiny remnant of that girl even remains.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **This will probably be a twoshot or maybe a multi-chap, depending on how motivated I feel. I didn't mention any of the Transformers because I wanted this to be centered around Sam. Sorry to disappoint. I felt like if I included any of the Autobots, this would turn into a huge, lengthy story that I would never complete. This is really about Mikaela and Sam's relationship and how I interpret Sam's feelings surrounding the aftermath.

Am I the only one who's pissed off with the third Transformers movie? I really wished they hadn't replaced Megan Fox. Well, more like, I wished they hadn't replaced Mikaela Banes. I think Mikaela was a more genuine character than Carly. Carly was the epitome of a Mary-Sue in my opinion. Beautiful, intelligent, courageous, and she always manages to come off as the victim. Gag me. At least Mikaela had her flaws and she was a strong character. Carly just screamed. And Sam was really annoying, too. In the first two movies, his awkwardness was cute, but in the third one it just got annoying. They should have stopped after the second or at least forced themselves to deal with Megan Fox's supposed attitude. They're all adults, aren't they?

Anyways, I'm probably boring and pissing you off with my rant. Here's the story.

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><p>It's been four years, you think. Four years is a long time.<p>

That last time you can remember seeing her is when she stormed out, eyes flashing, her stomps heard all the way down the hall. Then, suddenly you were alone. Suddenly, she was gone and you didn't do shit to make sure she stayed.

She looks different, you notice. No longer is she the tanned, exotic beauty with the lusciously dark hair and come-hither eyes. Her hair is short now, sweeping her jaw with a sort of messy elegance that you highly doubt comes from a bottle (How you can tell? See: Carly); she is incredibly pale in a way that would seem sickly if she didn't pull it off so well. Even as she's sitting down, drinking a cup of coffee (medium, one cream, two brown sugars; you don't know how or why you remember that), she gives off this sort of _je__ne__sais__quoi_ that you never knew she possessed.

To your dismay, the barista calls out your order, as well as your name.

"A large Americano for Sam Witwicky!"

You cringe. You wish the barista hadn't yelled your name so loudly. Out of the corner of your eye, you see her head whip around. She sees you. She smiles.

"Sam? Is that you? It's me, Mikaela." She waves you over to the table she's holding residence over. You walk over and sit down across from her.

You're shocked to see that she's hardly wearing any makeup; not that she ever wore much when you two were going out. It's just that, you've been surrounded by females who always feel the need to "put on their face" whenever they wish to leave the house.

She grasps your hands. You nearly reel back, but refrain yourself. You don't want to offend her. Besides, you figure it's a gesture of politeness more than anything else.

"Hi Mikaela," you say softly, hoping it'll make her ease her grip on your hand. However, it doesn't. Her smile grows wider and she gently squeezes.

"Sam, it's been too long. I really miss talking to you. It's too bad I deleted your phone number or your email." She speaks in a calm voice. You look at her carefully, trying to divulge any potential lies from her admittedly stunning visage. She looks honest. You take the plunge.

"It's okay. It wasn't like I really wanted to talk to you anyways."

Inwardly, you curse yourself to hell and back. You really wish you had thought before you spoke. Now she's going to get angry and storm out again or maybe she'll pour coffee on you, you really hope she doesn't pour the coffee because it looks really hot and you don't particularly enjoy the feeling of second-degree burns and—

She laughs.

You're kind of shocked. She _has_changed. The old Mikaela would have either rolled her eyes or cussed you out.

"Oh, Sam!" She shakes her head…fondly? "You haven't changed one bit."

At this point, you're not sure whether to feel offended, or glad that she's remembered you. You settle for glad, as you don't want to ruin this nice atmosphere between you two.

"I've changed," you find yourself saying.

"Really?" Mikaela smirks, but not in a mean way. More teasing-like, you would assume. "How?"

"Well, I've got a fiancée."

The silence that engulfs you both is suffocating and slightly awkward. At this point, you really don't know what to say, and you're not sure she does either. But, it's not like you can really tell. She's still smiling like a crazy person and it's getting freaking annoying.

You must have said that last part aloud or something because the smile slips right off her face. Damn. Now you kind of feel guilty.

"Sorry."

"Pardon?" You ask, not quite trusting yourself with longer sentences just yet.

"Sorry," she repeats, "for everything."

"Did I miss something, here?"

"Just about the worst part of my life."

Okay, now you're taken aback. This entire time, she's been in the Smiley-Pants Cul-de-sac and now she's taking a turn down Bitter-Bitch Avenue.

"My dad died last year." She spits out slightly venomously.

"I'm sorry," you say. You don't really know what to say in a situation like this. Yeah, you've had relatives who've kicked the can and all, but you've never really experienced the death of a close family member.

"No, you're not," she counters. "You barely knew him."

"Well, what do you want me to say?" You retaliate. This is escalating, you think, and the last thing you want to happen is a full-blown fight in a coffee shop with your ex. Because that would be embarrassing and Carly wouldn't be happy, you guarantee.

"Nothing. There's nothing you can say." She looks at you directly with her ocean eyes and all at once, you're taken aback. Despite the fact that, yeah, she's always been the most beautiful girl you've ever met (note to self: never, ever, ever, ever, EVER mention this to Carly), she still looks _so_ tired. Like the kind of tired that sleep doesn't really help. You wonder how badly a toll her father's death has taken on her.

"How—"you don't really trust yourself with full sentences, "—did he die?"

She stares at you over the rim of her coffee cup. You swear that her eyes are definitely burning into your soul, and she's probably performing some sort of spell on you that would render you infertile and Carly is going to be so pissed that you're even having coffee with your ex and—

"Liver cancer."

"Oh," You gulp nervously. "That's terrible. I'm sorry I wasn't there."

"S'not your fault." She confesses. "I should have told you."

You really don't want to make her feel bad. If you've learned anything from your relationship with Carly, it's not to make girls feel bad. That's like, some sort of mortal sin or something in their books.

"You had no obligation to tell me." Now you really want to pour your steaming hot coffee all over your head. Raising your eyes slightly skyward, you feel like cussing out the Big Guy Upstairs for giving you defective brain-to-mouth filters.

"If I had told you," she hesitates, "would you have even come to the funeral?"

"Uh…sure?"

"Really." It's more of a sarcasm statement than a question.

"Uh…probably not." Damn your non-existent verbal filters to hell. Damn them. "But, it's not because I didn't like your dad or anything." You try to save face frantically. "It's just…I don't know. Probably because of my immaturity," you finally admit, shamefaced.

"Thank you."

Okay, now she's seriously starting to freak you out. Like, one moment she's all "Oh-I'm-So-Happy-To-See-You" and then she was, "I'm-Going-To-Cut-You" and now she's "I'm-Saying-Thank-You-And-You-Better-Understand-What-I'm-Talking-About." How the hell did you get so good at reading girl moods anyways? Oh yeah. Carly.

"Uh…you're welcome?"

"Do you even know what I'm thanking you for?"

"If I say 'no' will you get angry?"

She smiles and chuckles at you. You probably should be pissed because, she's like, making fun of you. But, you're not. Funny how things happen the way they do.

An obnoxiously loud beeping interrupts your reverie. Mikaela's smile slips off her face as she frantically rifles through her bag. Pulling out a flashing phone, she grimaces noticeably.

"Sorry, Sam. I've got to jet."

You don't know whether to be relieved or saddened that she has to leave so abruptly. On one hand, your reunion was incredibly awkward for you. However, you have missed her and you did enjoy your catching-up. The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them.

"Where are you going?" _Why_ did you have to sound so desperate?

For the first time ever, you notice the hesitation in her eyes. "I'm going…to an appointment. To my dentist. I have to get a cleaning."

"And you decided to drink coffee before you go to the dentist?"

Ocean eyes cloud over slightly. "I…like coffee. Hence, the need to get my teeth cleaned."

"Oh, I see. Have fun," you say kind of lamely. In a situation like that, what do you say?

"I'll try," she responds quietly.

"Well," you clear your throat loudly. "Maybe I'll see you around?" You ask, hopefully. Scratch that. You don't want to sound too needy.

Mikaela stands up to leave. Maybe she didn't hear you? Oh god, you hope she didn't hear you. You are a total wimp. Totally. What are you? A twelve year old girl or something? You're supposed to be the manly guy with a super hot girlfriend (_fiancée_, your brain corrects you) and who doesn't care that the girl in front of him may or may not have broken his heart.

"I'm here every Sunday morning."

"What?" You're not sure you heard her correctly.

"I'll see you around Sam!"

Dammnit. She's already left.

Sunday mornings, huh. Well, you can wake up early on weekends if you want to.

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><p>Thanks for reading! Leave a review if you please.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Parting is Such Bittersweet Sorrow – Chapter 2**

**SUMMARY:**She used to be that girl; you know the one who left a trail of broken hearts in her wake. Staring at her, you wonder if even a tiny remnant of that girl even remains.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **And here's chapter 2! Sorry it took me so long to update. School is kicking my ass. On a story-related note, I mentioned that Sam and his parents live in the same city. However, as of the third movie, I don't think they do. But, this is fanfiction and it's supposed to take place four years after Mission City, so I made Sam and his parents live in the same city. Haven't decided where though. Just use your imagination.

Enjoy!

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><p>"And what made you think this was a good idea?"<p>

Oh god. Carly's angry at you, again. And to make matters worse, you can't really remember why. Maybe something to do with the fact that you faked sick so you could skip her boring business dinner and hang out with Bee? Nah. Most likely situation: you left the toilet seat up again.

"Sam? SAM! Are you even listening to me?"

Crap. Now she sounds really pissed. You should probably say something so she doesn't castrate you.

"Umm…yes. And I agree." Phew. Problem solved.

"Thank you, Sam. You know I love you. And I'm sorry for yelling." Carly smiles and wraps her arms around your torso.

_Yes!_Inward fist pump. You are so getting lucky tonight.

"I'm so glad that you agreed to stop hanging out with the Autobots so much."

What?

"What?" you ask, completely bewildered. When did you ever agree to that?

"I said, 'I'm happy that you're going to stop hanging out with the Autobots so much,'" she frowns this time. "Didn't you hear me?"

"Okay, I'm really lost here," you admit. "When did I say yes to that?"

Carly immediately jumps out of your arms as if she had been burned. "You just said so! Oh my god Sam! Were you not listening to me, again? I can't believe you!"

"I was listening!" you defend yourself. "It's just that when you yell and stuff, I can't hear you very well."

Whoops. Wrong thing to say. Why is it that everything makes sense in your head, but your verbal filters tend to screw it all up?

"You can't hear me when I yell," Carly repeats, monotone. She goes all quiet and you're starting to get scared. You see, Carly is the type of person with an explosive temper. On the outside, she's this lovely girl who wouldn't hurt a fly, but on the inside, she's a spitting, fiery she-demon. At first, you thought it was hot. Now you're just scared shitless.

The silence between you two is growing. You usually use her silence as a gauge of how angry she is. The longer it stretches, the bigger the explosion of raw PMS and fury.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. She still isn't speaking. You wonder if it's possible to make a run for it with your balls intact. Probably not. She'd have you before you reached the door.

"Get out." Carly seethes. "GET OUT!"

Okay, that was scary as hell. Like, you-almost-pissed-yourself scary.

"DID YOU NOT HEAR ME? DO I NEED TO REPEAT MYSELF?"

"Okay, okay! I'm going, I'm going! You don't need to throw that at me! Owch!"

So…you're not sure what to call Carly anymore. You really don't know if this fight has destroyed your relationship for good. You hope not. Despite her shortcomings, you love her. She chose you. Out of all the guys she could have had, she chose you and that's enough to make you love her.

But you're still pissed that she kicked you out. You only had time to put on your grubby sneakers. You don't even have your phone or your wallet or even your keys.

Damn. Why is it so cold today of all days? Last night was so warm that you didn't even need a jacket, but tonight is seriously freezing. The kind of freezing that would emasculate a man, to put it lightly.

Whoa, how have you walked this far? You're in front of this really kickass grocery store about two blocks from your apartment. Maybe you should go in, even if you're not going to buy anything. Just to keep from freezing your bits and bites off.

The bell over the door jingles as you walk in. You barely take note of the noise though. You just stare at the cracked linoleum tiles as you methodically walk. And walk. Aaanddd…you're in the feminine products aisle. Shit. Well, it's not like you know anybody here anyways—

"Sam? Is that you? Oh sweet Mother Mary, it is you!"

Aw crap. You always have the worst luck. Always. You turn around to come face-to-face with…Leo Spitz.

"Sam!" He engulfs you in an awkward hug. "Sam! I haven't seen you in forever! Dude, you stopped replying to my emails! I was asking you if you wanted to hang, like, three years ago! You still up for it, bro?"

Did he just unintentionally guilt-trip you? Damn, he's good.

"Oh…okay," you reply, 'cause you're not exactly sure what social graces come into play here.

"Dude! What's with the one-word answers? Remember back in college? Dude, you were so freaking crazy with your spazzy fits in class! Oh, and the time your totally hot girlfriend—whom I do not have the hots for—ran over that crazy robot chick with a car? So awesome! When can we do it again?" Leo is practically exploding with all of this contained excitement.

The only thing you understood in that whole schpeel was his question regarding your relationship with Mikaela. "You see," you clear your throat authoritatively, "Mikaela and I are no longer together. I'm engaged now."

"Dude! You're going to have to explain that to me. I did not process ANY of that."

You now comprehend the reason why Leo was never too popular with the girls…or anyone else for that matter. Damn, now you feel like a jerk for even thinking that. When did you become such an asshole, anyways?

"Dude!" Leo's excited battle-cry jerks you out of your reverie. "Your engagement?"

"Oh yeah," you groan, "well, Mikaela and I broke up over four years ago. Soon after we split, I met this gorgeous girl—she was working for the British Embassy—named Carly and we've been together ever since."

"Seriously?" Leo asks, eyes wide.

"Seriously," you confirm.

"Bro, that is the most...boring story I have ever heard. Really, man? Did you fight alien robots with her too?"

"Yes," you defend her girl. She'd like that if she was here.

"Uh-huh," Leo doesn't sound too convinced. "She sounds boring and high-maintenance to me. Is she prissy?"

The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. "Hell yes!" Oh damn. Bad mouth, bad mouth.

"That's what I'm talking about!" Leo crows. "But is she good in bed?"

"Leo! I'm not discussing that with you!"

"It's cool, bro. I better get going, man."

"It was nice seeing you, Leo."

"You too, dude. I'll email you!"

"Sure."

"Make sure you respond this time!"

Aaannnddd…he's gone. It's not until later you realize that you two were having a conversation in the tampon aisle. And it's even later when you ask yourself what Leo was even doing in that aisle.

You feel bad. After college, you practically cut off all contact with the guy. The first year afterward, he would email you every week. You would reply every month. In a way, you regret not keeping in touch. Leo's not that bad, you reason. He's an eternal frat-boy and he's a little eccentric, but he's not that bad.

You sigh and turn around. No point hanging around the grocery store when you have no wallet. Maybe you'll walk back home and see if Carly will let you back in. Highly unlikely, but worth a try. Or three.

* * *

><p>Goddammit. Was it this cold when you left (got kicked out, but you're going to refer to it as you leaving by choice)? Nope. It's gotten colder, if anything.<p>

Frick, frick, frick! Next time you get kicked out, you're bringing a jacket, or at least your cell phone. Then, you can call your parents (not matter how humiliating it will be) and go stay at their place for the night.

"Hey there, stranger."

Oh Lord. You really hope a prostitute isn't hitting on you or something. You turn around. Thank god. It's only Mikaela.

Hang on. What is Mikaela doing in this part of town, anyways? The only hot spots near you is that awesome grocery store, the hospital, and some divey restaurants that look disgusting, but are actually pretty good.

"Sam? Is that you, or am I talking to a complete stranger?"

You answer rapidly in that word-vomit way of yours that you abhor. "No, no. It's me. Of course it's me. Who else would it be I mean it's not like I have a doppelganger or anything but that would be pretty cool actually no it wouldn't be because then he could do all these bad things and I would get in trouble for it and then I would end up in jail but I don't want to go to jail because Carly would kill me and I don't want her to kill me because then she'd be in jail and she'd blame me even though it technically wasn't my fault and the weather is so cold I think I'm freezing my balls off isn't the weather cold?"

Mikaela looks confused. Her eyebrow is raised and it looks really sexy on her; not that you'd tell anyone. "Uuuhhh…okay…?" She laughs nervously.

"Did I just word vomit, again?" You ask even though you already know the answer.

"Yeah," she chuckles, "I always thought it was cute."

Cute? Okay, first Carly kicks you out, then Leo sends you on a trillion guilt-trips and now Mikaela just emasculated you. What a night you're having.

"Uhh…Sam…? Why are you walking around in your pajamas?"

"Carly kicked me out," you confess automatically. "I'm just going to walk around until she lets me back in."

Mikaela actually looks sorry for you. Normally you'd be pissed off because you hate pity, but you really don't care right now.

"Do you…do you want to stay at my place?"

What. Your brain just imploded. So you're going to stay at your ex-girlfriend's house until your current girlfriend lets you come back home? Judging by the situation, probably never.

"You don't have to," she stammers, "I was just offering and it was stupid of me to do so."

You shouldn't make her feel bad. "It's okay. Thanks for offering, though."

Then, a bright, beaming smile lights up her face and you're momentarily rendered speechless. Even in this crappy street lighting, she still manages to look beautiful. "Well," she say tentatively, "I can give you a ride to your parent's place?"

"That would be fantastic. Thank you so much."

"No problem, Sam."

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><p>Reviews are appreciated!<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

**Parting is Such Bittersweet Sorrow – Chapter 3**

**SUMMARY: **She used to be that girl; you know the one who left a trail of broken hearts in her wake. Staring at her, you wonder if even a tiny remnant of that girl still remains.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** I haven't updated for a month! Well to be fair, university applications have been kicking my butt. This is literally fresh off the "press" with little to no editing. I apologize for that, but I really wanted to update this ASAP.

Anyways, I was reading over some of my last chapters, and I've noticed that Mikaela seems a little...Mary-Sueish to me. I wasn't sure if that was noticeable to the readers, so I'll clarify. This is all from Sam's point of view and how he sees things. If one particular character seems like the token bitch or the annoying Mary-Sue, it's because Sam sees them that way, not because I want them to be perfect or bitchy.

Well, I'm done talking. Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

><p>"Bye Sam! I'll see you next Sunday!"<p>

The first—well second to be honest—words in your mind: _Carly is going to kill you. And enjoy it. _

You can't really pinpoint it. All you know is that somehow, you and Mikaela started meeting up weekly for coffee. You're not cheating on Carly. It's coffee between friends, something that a mature adult would do. It's not cheating because you don't like Mikaela anymore. Well, you do like her. Once you got past her holier-than-thou exterior, she's actually really cool. You wonder why she was never like this when you were dating.

You love Carly. You love her accent because it's really hot and you love the way she looks in the morning, all disheveled and muddled, not at all like her usual coiffed self. You love Carly for her imperfections, however few they may be.

And that is probably why you aren't going to tell her about your weekly coffee dates (they aren't dates!) with Mikaela.

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><p>You hate hospitals, you really do. But Carly's nephew broke his ankle in a soccer (or was it baseball?) game, and you owe it to her to come. Well to be honest, you didn't really have to be here but you insisted and it did make Carly look happy. You think it made her happy. You don't really know. Sometimes, you confuse her happy face with I'm-lying-through-my-teeth face.<p>

God, it's so…_white_ in here. Like, there's no colour…at all. Were hospitals always this sterile? Maybe you've never noticed it because you've never had to go to one.

"Carly?" you peek your head into her nephew's room, not really wanting to disturb anyone. "How much longer are you going to be?"

It takes about half a second to register what you've just said.

"Sam." The word is articulated slowly and you know you're in trouble. Only Carly can articulate your name in such a way that it sounds like a swear word. "Why don't you go down to the cafeteria?" She pastes a smile on her face, but it's starting to border on sinister. "I'm craving an oatmeal cookie."

You know when you're not wanted.

"Alrighty then. I'll…see you all later, I guess. Uh…hope that arm heals Steven."

As you practically bolt from the room and down the hall, you can hear the boy yelling, "My name is Jonathan! And I broke my ankle!"

* * *

><p>"Uh…one oatmeal cookie and…no that's it. Actually, can I get a coffee as well?"<p>

"What size do you want, sir?" The barista taking your order looks like she'd rather be anyplace but here. You can definitely relate.

"The largest size you have," you respond automatically, "God knows I'll need it." You chuckle hoping to defuse the tension.

"Fantastic, sir. That'll be $6.34."

You take your coffee and cookie from the unenthusiastic barista. You swear you can see her roll her eyes at you, but you ignore it. You're definitely the bigger person.

The cafeteria is a pretty nice place, despite it being in a hospital (you have nothing against hospitals, other than the fact that they freak you out). It's decorated in tasteful, neutral colours that calm you instead of the stark white that sets you on edge. The wood paneling is a nice touch and the floor to ceiling windows add to the overall…awesomeness of the place. You wonder why you didn't suggest staying here while Carly visited her nephew.

You go to sit down at one of the unoccupied tables, when you spot a flash of dark hair that's disturbingly familiar. You walk over to her table and sit down in the empty chair.

"Mikaela?"

The girl starts and looks in your direction. Definitely Mikaela. What the heck is she doing here?

"Oh…hi Sam. What're you doing here?"

"I'm visiting Carly's nephew. Broke his arm…or ankle." You reply cordially. "What're you doing here?"

At this, Mikaela's eyes go wide. She starts to wring her hands. "I'm here to visit someone." She says quickly, her words flowing quickly as if read off a script.

You can't help but to pry. "Who're you visiting?"

"My…aunt. She had to get a blood transfusion." Mikaela won't meet your eyes, and for the first time, you notice how…_bad_ she looks. Not really bad, per se, but haggard.

"Why?" You ask because you know she's lying.

"Why do you want to know?" She snaps, finally looking you straight in the eyes.

She looks pale and thin. Not in the good way either. Her face looks gaunt and it would do her good to gain a few pounds.

"I'm sorry," you apologize and you mean it. Maybe Mikaela isn't lying and she's genuinely concerned about her aunt.

"It's okay. I know you meant well."

An awkward silence settles over the both of you. For the first time in your life, your verbal filters have kicked in and you're left with nothing to say.

"Will I—" your voice cracks, "will I see you next Sunday?"

"I don't think so," comes Mikaela's quiet reply. "I'm going to be busy on that day."

"Oh," you're at a lost for words, "are you mad at me?"

This time, Mikaela's voice is a little firmer. "No."

"What about the Sunday after?"

"Probably not."

"Well, if Sunday is a bad day for you then we can arrange to meet on another day."

"Sam, the day is not the issue."

Finally, your faulty verbal filters decide to click off and a torrent of words come pouring out of your mouth. "There's an issue?" You're angry now. "I wasn't aware that there was an issue."

"Well, I'm sorry Sam. Maybe you haven't realized it, but you have a fiancée!" She retorts.

"Whom I love very much!" You yell, not noticing the looks you're getting from the other patrons.

"I can't do this anymore," Mikaela shakes her head and gets up to leave, "I'm leaving."

"Like you haven't done that before." The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them.

Mikaela wheels around, her eyes ablaze. "Excuse me?"

"Oh don't feed me that ignorant bullshit. You always leave. Whenever something gets tough, you leave. That's what you're good at."

Mikaela doesn't cry. Not that you expect her to. She's like a freaking Amazonian and maybe you loved her for it. But not now. You want to make her cry. Make her feel the same way you felt when she left you.

"At least I'm good at something." She sneers condescendingly.

"Pot? Meet kettle," you shoot back, "I went to university."

"Oh! I'm sorry!" Her apology is the furthest thing from sincere and you both know it. "Are you really bringing this up again?"

"I'm not bringing it up. I'm just stating a fact." You hate how you turn into this conceited dick when you're angry.

"A fact?" She's visibly shaking with rage. "Well here's another fact. You couldn't get a girl to like you for who you are, even if you tried."

You roll your eyes because Mikaela's being ridiculous and completely irrational. "I can't get a girl. Who's the one with the fiancée? Hmm?"

"You're a dick."

"Hmm, really? How old are we, Mikaela? 12? Last time I checked, you're supposed to be a grown woman. I suggest you conduct yourself like one."

"Are you kidding me? I'm the immature one?" Mikaela cocks her head to one side as she scrutinizes you with furious eyes. "You're the one who's never had to work for anything!"

"What am I supposed to do? Shoo them away? It's not my fault that I have parents. Don't blame me for something I can't control. You always do that."

Out of every nasty thing you said to her, this little tidbit does the trick. Almost immediately, her jaw clenches and eyes start to water. She gets up so quickly, her chair clatters to the ground.

"I was better off without you."

* * *

><p>I'll let you guys decide who said that last line! It's pretty ambiguous, I suppose.<p>

Review are very much appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4

**Parting is Such Bittersweet Sorrow – Chapter 4**

**SUMMARY: **She used to be that girl; you know the one who left a trail of broken hearts in her wake. Staring at her, you wonder if even a tiny remnant of that girl remains.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Sorry for not updating in over a month. School and applications have been hectic. Don't worry, I won't abandon this story!

* * *

><p>Mrs. Carly Whitwicky.<p>

Mrs. Carly Whitwicky.

It has sort of a nice ring to it, you think.

Carly Whitwicky.

It sounds a little weird the more you say it though. You laugh out loud and ignore the odd looks that the other café patrons are giving you. You've learned not to care too much about what they think.

You should really stop coming to this café, anyways. The coffee here isn't that great and it's pretty out of the way. Also, there's only one bathroom and there's always toilet paper all over the floor when you walk in.

You know why you're here. There is only one reason why you would continue to come to this hellhole of a café when you know that there are more respectable ones just down the road.

It's Mikaela. It's always been Mikaela.

Not in _that _way. You just miss her. But it's not your fault that she was PMS-ing. It's not like you control when a woman has her…you know. If it was up to you, you'd get rid of it. Carly would probably like that.

Now what the hell were you thinking about before your brain decided to go all weird?

Oh yeah. Mikaela.

You've been coming here every second day just to see if Mikaela would drop by. She hasn't. Did you mention that it's been nearly three weeks? Waiting sucks.

But it's not your fault. You're only looking for her so she can apologize to you. She was the one who flipped out and said a whole bunch of bullshit about why you couldn't be friends.

Why can't you be friends? It's not like you are harbouring some sort of secret affair and your conscience is getting to you. You're just a grown man with a friend who happens to be an impossibly beautiful woman. There's nothing immoral about that. Suspicious, but not immoral.

You wish your life was like a movie. Like one of those really bad "rom-coms" that Carly always seems to enjoy. That way, Mikaela would walk right through those doors and you'd see her and you could apologize and everything would be back to normal.

But life isn't a romantic comedy.

And even if Mikaela walked in, you don't think you'd want to apologize.

And even if you did, where would that leave you? In some awkward limbo where you're closer than friends, but not close to the point where you'd ever consider leaving Carly? You wouldn't leave Carly for another girl.

Sometimes, you wish you were born a girl. That way you could act all moody and nobody could call you out on it because, hey, you're a girl.

But you're glad that you were born a guy. You don't have to deal with feelings and all that shit. Or pregnancy. Oh god no.

You always look up at the door whenever you hear a tinkling noise, indicating that someone has come it. It's never Mikaela. You haven't seen her since the "hospital incident."

_Ding._

The bell rings. You look up. And swear inwardly to yourself.

It's Leo.

That guy has a talent for popping up whenever he's not wanted.

You duck your head and stare into the dregs of your coffee, hoping he doesn't take notice of you.

"Saaammm! My man! Dude!"

Why do you even bother.

"Sam! Hey Sam! Is that you?" Leo calls out jubilantly. He probably doesn't care that it's a Sunday afternoon and people are trying to enjoy the quiet atmosphere that comes with this dingy hole-in-the-wall.

"Oh. Hi Leo," you reply back. You don't want to encourage the joy. You're not in the mood for that. "What're you doing here?"

"Well, you wouldn't believe what happened to me!" Leo sits right down beside you without invitation and launches into rapid speech.

"I was just driving down to the store because I had a huge craving for spicy ranch chips—and no grocery store sells spicy ranch chips, you wouldn't believe how many I tried—and then my car starts making this weird grinding noise so I had to pull over and stop. THEN, I get out of the car and there's a lot of smoke coming from the hood and I think 'Aw crap! This is going to cost me a fortune!' so I called up Mikaela to hopefully swing by and take a look at it. She always gives me a discount and I don't really want to pay a crapload of cash for some small repair because the repairman near my place ALWAYS rips me off. And I got another craving for coffee so I came in here. And I saw you. Small world, bro!"

You maybe only absorbed half of what he said. But one thing stands out to you.

"You still talk to Mikaela?"

"Hell yeah!" Leo fist pumps. "Dude, we talk all the time! She fixes my cars from time to time."

You furrow your brows. "Is that a euphemism for something?"

Leo just looks at you confusedly. "Nah, bro. We're buds. And besides, she's not interested in me. I got total friendzoned but it's alright man. She's cool."

Eternal fratboy. At least he makes for somewhat good company. Looking back on it, you sort of miss your short-lived college days with Leo. He may have been annoying and a complete nuisance, but there was never really a dull moment with him.

Leo's phone rings. You recognize it as that obnoxiously popular teenybopper song that Carly always plays around the apartment.

Leo picks it up.

"Hey brah! You on your way? Cool. Brah, you wouldn't believe who I just ran into! No, no I want you to guess. Guess. You guessed wrong! Sam Whitwicky! Isn't that just insane? Alright so, I'll see you in a few? Alright, ciao bella."

"Who was that?" You ask, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"Dude!" Leo rolls his eyes and you kind of want to punch him. But not really because he's a pretty cool guy.

"It was Mikaela. Duh."

Oh shit.

"She's fixing my car."

Oh shit.

"She's on her way right now."

Oh shit.

"She'll be here in about five minutes."

SHIT.

* * *

><p>It's a short, filler chapter. All the action will be in the next chapter (hopefully). I'll try to get that started when I can.<p>

Reviews are very much appreciated! I do want to know your opinion on this story and how I can improve my writing (note that this is very informal writing, however).


	5. Chapter 5

**Parting is Such Bittersweet Sorrow – Chapter 5**

**SUMMARY: **She used to be that girl; you know the one who left a trail of broken hearts in her wake. Staring at her, you wonder if even a tiny remnant of that girl remains.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Argh I know it's been a long time and I apologize for that. Here is chapter 5! It's pretty short but I didn't want it to drag on for too long. Chapter 6 is underway! I'm actually starting it right now and will upload it as soon as I am able to find time to finish it. Don't worry, I promise to finish this story as bleak as it seems right now. I have an ending planned out and everything so fear not, I will not leave this story incomplete forever.

* * *

><p>"Hey Leo. Sorry for the wait. Traffic over in this side of town is awful!"<p>

She's here. Three weeks of not seeing her and the first thing she does is greet Leo.

Not that you're bitter or anything. Honestly, you're just sick of fighting with her. What happened to your friendship, anyways? You miss the days when you could just plop down and talk to Mikaela about everything and anything going on in your joke of a life. Now, you can't even look at her.

"Mikaela! Woman of the hour!" Leo crows. "Just the person I was looking for! There's something wrong with my car."

"Of course," Mikaela jests. "That's the only reason why you would request my company."

"Oh shush, you." Leo laughs. "You're one of my best friends."

Best friends? When did Leo and Mikaela become best friends? Again, you feel the bitter tang of jealousy in your mouth. Or maybe that's the coffee. You can never tell with these cheap places.

"Hey Mikaela," Leo continues to your chagrin, "did you know Sam's here?"

"Sam?" You swear Mikaela's voice changes. "He's here?" She sounds…hopeful? At least you hope it's hopeful and not well-disguised anger. You don't really believe in fighting and there's not way in Hell that you're hitting a girl, no matter how tough she is.

"Yeah!" Oh shut up, Leo. Just. Shut. Up. "He's right over here! Hey Sam! Mikaela's here!"

You walk (crawl, more like) out of your hiding place. "Hey Mikaela," you say, praying you sound casual and not scared for your life…and maybe your manhood.

"Sam," she greets you, lips slightly pursed. "What a surprise to see you here."

Yes! It's a surprise! But, she didn't specify whether it's a good surprise or a bad one. Oh well. You'll take whatever you can get.

"Not really," you brush off her comment. "I'm here all the time."

"Really," Mikaela looks at you skeptically. "Because I'm here all the time and I've never seen you."

"Well, maybe we keep missing each other." You laugh nervously.

"Oh you would know a lot about missing someone," she remarks innocently.

You clench your fist, ready to bite back when you hear the clearing of a throat. Leo stands near Mikaela, enclosed fist by his mouth as his eyes flicker between the two of you, as if he were watching an extremely engaging tennis match.

"I'm sorry," he says, not at all sincerely. "Am I interrupting you? Go on, just ignore me."

"No," Mikaela shakes her head, "I'm sorry, Leo. I'm here to fix your car, not fight with Whitwicky."

"Oh, am I Whitwicky now?"

"Sam," Leo chastises warningly.

"It's okay, Leo." Mikaela puts down the tool in her hand. "Sam is just being immature, as always."

"I am not always immature! Don't be so mean!" You pout petulantly. Okay, maybe you can be immature. But people like Mikaela really grate on your nerves.

"Uh-huh," Mikaela nods patronizingly. "Why don't you just go home to your girlfriend and tell her all about the mean bully and maybe if you're lucky, she'll kiss your boo-boo better."

"Why are you being such a bitch about this?"

Somewhere in the midst of your yelling, Leo slips away. "I'm just going to go to the washroom…for a very long time," he informs, "or at least until the yelling stops. I don't want people to think I'm associated with you guys."

"Isn't this ironic?" Mikaela taunts. "Every time something gets a little bit difficult, you back away. You never want to try!"

"What the hell are you even talking about?" You bellow. "I thought we were still on the subject of my immaturity!"

"We are!"

"Then why are you complaining about my lack of trying?"

"Because it's true!" She throws her arms up in the air exasperatedly. "Even when we were dating and things got tough, you just gave up. It's like you didn't care enough about me."

"Is that what this is all about?" You question, bafflement written in your features. "Our relationship? Listen Banes, we broke up a long time ago. I'm engaged now."

Mikaela suddenly stiffens. "You're engaged?" The rage in her voice disappears, only to be replaced by a shell-shocked whisper so quiet you have to strain yourself to hear her.

"Yes, I'm engaged," you confirm. "Carly and I are going to get married."

A furious red blush covers the expanse of Mikaela's pale (is it just you, or does she look a lot more pale than before?) face. "Oh."

"Yup," you nod. "Engaged."

"I apologize," she stammers, not quite looking at you, "for yelling at you the way I did. I had no right to do that."

"I'm sorry, too."

"I miss us," Mikaela smiles slightly. "Do you think things between us can go back to the way they were?"

"When we were friends?"

She pauses. "Yes," she murmurs hesitantly, "when we were friends."

"I want to try."

"Me too."

You hold out your arms and Mikaela steps into your embrace. It feels nice, hugging her like this. When you were dating, you loved how she just…fit. Like you were made for each other or something cheesy like that.

(She feels a lot more bony though. Maybe she lost weight? You should probably talk to her about that.)

You rest your chin on the crown of her head and sigh.

"I'm glad we can be friends again. To be honest, I did miss your company," you divulge. "Where've you been these past few weeks anyways?"

She looks up at you with a crooked smile you know is feigned. "Oh, you know. Places."

Before you can wring it out of her, Leo's voice interrupts your moment.

"Finally! I had the police on speed-dial in the case the fight turned violent, but thank God I didn't have to call them!"

He jogs up to you two, a wide grin on his face. "Are we all good, now?"

"Yes," you agree, "we're good."

* * *

><p>Reviews inspire me to write more! And to write better!<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

**Parting is Such Bittersweet Sorrow – Chapter 6**

**SUMMARY: **She used to be that girl; you know the one who left a trail of broken hearts in her wake. Staring at her, you wonder if even a tiny remnant of that girl remains.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** I haven't updated for so long and I'm sorry for that. But, here it is. THE FINAL CHAPTER. It's a little rushed, but I felt like this story was going nowhere and I needed to wrap it up. Please review!

* * *

><p>Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in again.<p>

And choke.

You cough wildly and through squinty eyes, glare at all the people staring at you strangely.

This is your first meeting with Mikaela after your make-up. It's not that you're nervous about seeing her, it's more that you're nervous about saying something that is going to get her mad at you again and having to go through this whole back-and-forth process of anger and yelling and forgiveness. It's tiring, being someone's best friend.

You sort of envy Leo for not knowing what it feels like. And now you feel bad for thinking that. Leo isn't a bad guy…he's just a little eccentric and he doesn't really know how to act around people without freaking them out. He only has you and Mikaela and now that the two of you have made up, where does that leave him?

"Hey Sam!"

Mikaela.

"Hey," she slips into the chair across from you, looking as beautiful as she always does. A little pale and gaunt though.

"Hey Mikaela," you greet politely. "How are you?"

"Good," she replies earnestly, sounding a little out of breath. "Sorry, I had to park really far and ended up speed walking the whole way here."

"No worries."

She smiles. "Oh, I saw your girlfriend yesterday!"

"My fiancée," you correct her.

She waves her hand dismissively. "Well yeah, her. Anyways, I saw her at the mall yesterday—actually she saw me—and we sort of talked. I didn't know she knew me."

"Well, I do talk about you to her," you explain.

"I hope you have nice things to say about me," Mikaela teases.

"Why wouldn't I? You're a nice person."

"Sam," she puts emphasis on the first letter, "it's a joke." She shakes her head in faux-disappointment and as she does so, you notice the hard ridges of her collarbones are far more pronounced than they used to be.

"Anyways, she seems really nice." Mikaela beams at you. "You have very good taste in women."

"She is," you agree, "very nice, that is."

"At first, I thought she would hate me." She confides in you, twisting a short lock of hair around thin fingers. "Seeing as I'm your ex-girlfriend and by default, the ex is always supposed to be mean."

"Well I'm glad she doesn't hate you." You drum your fingers on the leg of your jeans.

The two of you smile at one another from across the cracked Formica (though the barista insists it's real wood) table. For a second, everything feels breezy and effortless, not unlike the days you two dated.

Then you realize it; the reason why this all feels so right and why you feel like you're slipping into a routine.

It's because you are.

Inwardly startled, you come to the realization that you love Mikaela and when she left you, she took with her everything that anyone has ever liked about you. It's the same reason why you don't get along with Leo anymore. It's because you were your best self around her.

You clear your throat. "I'm glad we can still be friends."

"Where did that come from?" She laughs.

"I'm just glad," you shrug. "After saving the world twice, we get to keep our sanity and our friendship. That's pretty cool."

"If you say so."

The next hour passes more quickly than you like. The two of you talk about nearly everything under the sun. Your conversations are shallow and superficial, but they feel more real than anything you've talked about with Carly.

In the hidden part of your mind, you quietly wonder what it would be like if you had cared more and Mikaela had stayed. Would it be Carly sitting in this rundown coffee shop, discussing the importance of donating blood? Would it be Mikaela dressing in designer clothing and socializing with the masses and most importantly, wearing his ring?

Suddenly, Mikaela's phone beeps, interrupting her monologue and your inner thoughts.

"Oh crap," she swears, surprising you. "Sorry Sam, but I've really got to jet."

"Do you need a ride?"

"That'd be great."

"Where to?"

Her eyes widen marginally in shock. "To the hospital," she says casually.

"Your nephew's arm is still broken?"

She looks confused. "My nephew's what? Oh his arm. Yeah, well he wants me to be there for the x-rays. He gets really nervous around those kinds of machines and stuff."

You get the feeling that she's lying but you don't want to push it.

* * *

><p>"You're a freaking asshole." The line disconnects.<p>

You stare at your phone in shock. Only seconds earlier, Leo had called and you, expecting him to ask about another "boy's night out" answered. Instead, you got him insulting you, then promptly hanging up.

You call him back.

"You've just reached Mr. Spitz, professional Lady Killer. How may I direct your call?"

"Leo, what the hell?"

"Sam?"

"Yes, it's Sam! Why did hell did you call me an asshole?"

"Because you are!"

"What did I do to deserve that, Leo?"

"Just—just—can you just get your ass over here?"

"Over where?"

"The hospital."

You're not sure you like the sound of that.

* * *

><p>"I'm here to see uh…" you stammer at the receptionist. "Leo Spitz?"<p>

"I'm sorry sir," she recites, "but we do not have a patient by that name. Perhaps he goes by another name?"

"Sam!"

You whip around. Looking out of place amongst the stark white of the waiting area is Leo clad in what appears to be an orange tracksuit.

"Leo," you greet him. "Why am I here?"

He grabs you by the arm and pulls you into a more secluded section of the waiting area. From the outside, it looks as if two grown men are occupying the kids' play area.

"Did she tell you?"

"Did she tell me what? Leo, you have to be more specific than that!"

"It's Mikaela," he divulges, looking as ill as you now feel. "She's sick."

"Well when is she expected to get better?" You haven't seen her for almost a month. Work and Carly have been taking a toll on you and Mikaela's always volunteering at the hospital.

"S'like her dad," Leo doesn't make eye contact with you, preferring to stare down at the brightly coloured alphabet mats congregating in one huge pile on the floor.

"Can…cer…?" The word is poison on your tongue.

"Liver cancer," he confirms.

"Can I see her?"

"Come with me."

You follow him out of the lobby and through a maze of hallways, not paying attention to what floor or what rooms you're passing. All you can digest is the fact that Mikaela—Mikaela, the bright and beautiful and immortal—has cancer of some sort and she never told you.

"Hi Sam."

Somehow, you've ended up in her room. The floors are grey flecked linoleum and the walls an unappealing shade of stained white. Mikaela sits up on a bed, propped up by several pillows. She looks thin and drained, like she's carrying the weight of the world on her weary shoulders.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

You can't bring yourself to respond. Hell, you can't even open your mouth to say anything. You feel lock jawed.

"I didn't want you to worry."

You sigh.

"Are you mad at me?" Her voice is a whisper, you notice. She sounds as if she can't quite draw enough breath. "I lied about everything. My nephew and the volunteering…they were all lies. I was here because I needed treatment."

You shake your head. No, you're not exactly mad at her. How can you be mad at her?

"Liver cancer is hereditary, the doctors say. Because my dad had it, I guess I was susceptible too."

You reach for her hand and grasp it, trying to get her to absorb some of your healthiness although you know it's futile.

"It's spreading really quickly too." Her normally bright eyes are clouded over and she looks slightly dazed. "I thought I could undergo chemotherapy but apparently liver cancer doesn't respond well to it. And I already cut my hair off too."

There's a stinging behind your eyes.

"Don't cry, Sam. I'm not going to die. There are other treatments. I just wanted you to be here because I didn't want to lie to you anymore."

"I wish you told me earlier," you force out.

"If I did, you wouldn't want to hang out with me. You'd be too scared of me being weak and I would have been scared that you were hanging out with me because you pitied me."

"No," you object, "Mikaela, I am your friend because I love…your company," you catch yourself at the very end.

"I'm glad," she closes her eyes. Then, she snaps them back open. "I'm not dying, you asshole so don't look so distraught. I'm just taking a nap because I've been up all night and I'm tired."

Leo knocks on the door. You didn't notice he had left the room. "Is she asleep?" He asks you.

You nod and stand up to follow him out the door. Before you do, you stare at Mikaela once more. Against your finer judgment, you lean down and press a kiss to her hairline. Then, you finally walk out.

"Hey man," Leo puts his hands on your shoulders, "I'm sorry I called you an asshole. It was uncalled for and you definitely didn't deserve it."

"It's alright, Leo."

"Do you want to get a drink with me? After all this, I need a little pick-me-up."

"Lead the way, good sir."

* * *

><p>For the next little while, you make a habit of avoiding both Leo and Mikaela. Well, not really. You bring flowers to Mikaela exactly four times in one week and she laughs at you. You get drinks with Leo five times and regret it immensely (but you still had fun, you think).<p>

Then, it all stops.

Leo takes an impromptu vacation without telling you and just disappears. You have a strong suspicion he's somewhere in Hawaii though and decide not to worry too much.

Next, Mikaela confronts you and through much stammering and swearing, she realizes your feelings for her; you've tried to keep these feelings hidden for so long. She then asks for you not to see her again.

You fall back into the regularity of the life you previously thought you wanted, working nine to five at an insurance firm you don't really like and keeping the company of a beautiful woman whom you love, but maybe not enough.

It's a windy autumn day in the middle of November when a little click in your head resonates. Your life is switching tracks and you're no longer in control. You can see the future and it looks exactly the same as the present. Do you really want this?

The irony is that leaving Carly for Mikaela never really occurs to you until too late.

It's a rare sunny day in December when you open the newspaper to get to the funnies (don't tell Carly; she thinks you're reading the business section) and you see the obituary.

**-FIN-**


	7. Preview for Next Fic

**FINAL AUTHOR'S NOTE AND PREVIEW FOR NEXT FIC**

I was going to move onto another fandom, but it seems like these characters won't leave me alone. Seriously. They're begging for more attention and I didn't want to abandon them so I've found a bit of a loophole.

I know that I have listed this fic as complete. Yes, this fic is complete. However, there is much left unsaid and a lot of loose ends that need to be tied up.

1. How is Sam dealing with the tragedy of losing Mikaela?

2. What the heck happened to Leo?

3. What is Carly's take on all of this?

4. What happened during Sam's confession scene?

5. What is the true relationship between Leo and Mikaela?

Fear not, dear reader. I very sneakily (more like unconsciously) decided on an open ending. Therefore, I present to you, **Doting on Your Very Absence**, which will be a collection of oneshots set in the Universe of PiSBS. These oneshots will not be in chronological order and may or may not cover all the aforementioned topics.

I don't want to leave you hanging, so I'll be generous and offer up a little preview of what the first oneshot will be.

* * *

><p><strong>An Unexpected Visitor<strong>

Despite what anyone says about her, how pleasant and charming and charismatic she is, Carly Whitwicky knew within her heart of hearts that she was a bitch. She suspected this when Sam spoke enthusiastically about some female work friend and she felt a spurt of jealousy. She knew it when she purposely knocked over a framed picture of Sam and his college friends out of spite. She revelled in it when she screamed at Sam for no good reason other than feeling insecure that he was comparing her to his beautiful ex.

Yes, Carly Whitwicky was a bitch, but no one would ever say that she was heartless.

And that presence of a heart was what prevented her from running far away as she stood at the grave of Mikaela Banes and contemplated her next actions.

The grave was nicely kept, she thought. A fresh bouquet of orchids, no doubt expensive and probably from Sam, adorned the headstone. The words engraved were not in some fancy, scrawling script, but in clearly rendered letters. The grass was bright and heavy with morning dew, thousands upon thousands of little droplets looking like iridescent crystals scattered on the ground. The earth was moist and the smell of fertile soil hung heavily in the air, mixing with the sharp tang of crisp winter air.

Carly hated every bit of it. All of this beauty, she decided, was a waste for someone who couldn't even see it.

* * *

><p>And that's it for now. If you want to know the rest of the story, tune into "Doting on Your Very Absence," released whenever I can find time to sit down and write without distractions!<p> 


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